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Stuart Atkins
Stuart Atkins

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Hermione and the Wet Bedsheets Part Seven

It was disgusting. Hermione could taste the acrid flavour of her own piss, and the aroma seemed to be wafting up the back of her through to her nose, meaning it was a two-pronged attack on her senses. Lavender stood opposite her, giggling.

‘Well, not so high and mighty now, are we?’ said Lavender.

Hermione most certainly was not. Standing with her skirt raised above her waist, her tights in a heap on the floor, with her freshly smacked bottom exposed to the air and her bald pubic region on display, while her wet knickers rested in her mouth. Tears of humiliation welled in her eyes and Hermione’s grim determination was the only reason that they didn’t roll down her cheeks.

‘Turn around and bend over,’ said Lavender.

Hermione didn’t know what she had planned, but realised that fighting her at this point was a futile exercise. She meekly complied, turning to face the toilet and bending over. She felt Lavender’s hands on her tender bum, gently caressing the cheeks. It was actually comforting, until she felt her cheeks parted and a most unwelcome intrusion in her back passage. Hermione let out a cry of protest, though it was muffled by the contents of her mouth. Lavender responded with a sharp slap to her already sore posterior.

‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ she commanded.

She then spun Hermione back round to face her.

‘You can take those wet knickers out of your mouth now, little Hermy,’ said Lavender, placing emphasis  on the word wet.

Hermione reached into her mouth and drew the disgusting, sodden underwear out.

Lavender bent down, holding out the infantile knickers for Hermione to step into. It appeared that she wasn’t even going to allow Hermione the dignity of putting them on by herself. One foot at a time, Hermione stepped into them and allowed Lavender to pull them up her legs.  When Hermione went to reach for her tights, Lavender stopped her.

‘Oh no Hermione, I don’t think you want to put those back on,’ she said.

‘Why not?’

‘Aside from the fact that you were wearing them when your wet yourself?’

‘They’re dry! I didn’t … go that much.’

‘Stop trying to downplay the fact that you had an accident at an age when most girls wouldn’t dream of it. Anyway, I noticed in divination that when you were getting desperate, you put on quite a show. I’m sure lots of the boys got a look up your skirt, though they won’t have been able to get a good look at your knickers because you had those tights over them. Now, you won’t have that protection, so you’ll need to make sure you don’t get so desperate in future, unless you want all the boys to see your present underwear. See, Hermy? I’m helping you.’

Hermione realised that there was no point in continuing to argue with Lavender on that front. She’d just have to try extra hard not to let any of the boys see up her skirt. There was no way she wanted to be caught in her current knickers. Boys talk, she knew. If word got round about what she was wearing, she’d never live it down.

‘Fine, but I don’t want to go barefoot in those shoes. Can I at least have some socks?’

‘Of course,’ said Lavender.

The ease with which she acquiesced took Hermione by surprise, but she soon saw the reason why. Lavender produced a pair of socks from her robes, but rather than being the grey or black knee socks that most of the girls wore, they were frilly white ankle socks. Hermione hadn’t worn anything of the sort since she was a little girl, but she knew better than to argue with Lavender by now, and slipped them onto her feet. The socks, combined with the knickers she was wearing and the state of her pubic region, made her feel foolish and childish, but she knew that was Lavender’s intention.

‘And what do you expect me to say when my friends notice that I’ve changed my clothes?’ asked Hermione, somewhat more haughtily than she had meant to.

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something. Though, if you get really stuck you could just tell them the truth. Say that you had a wickle accident in your knickers and needed to have somebody change you like a baby. Up to you. Anyway, let’s go. We’ve got care of magical creatures next.’


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